


Regulars

by orange_panic_archive



Series: Let Me Count The Ways [1]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Bending (Avatar TV), Bad Matchmaking, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Like seriously zero of this is canon, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:28:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27933076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orange_panic_archive/pseuds/orange_panic_archive
Summary: Two of Korra's regulars, White Tea and Americano, clearly belong together. Since she's not getting anywhere in her own love life, perhaps she should try her hand at helping someone else?Or perhaps not...College/AU
Relationships: Iroh II/Asami Sato, Korra/Mako (Avatar), Mako/Asami Sato
Series: Let Me Count The Ways [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165019
Comments: 14
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Every respectable, and less-than-respectable, writer of fanfiction needs at least one college/coffee shop AU fic. I’ve actually never seen one for a primary Iroh/Asami pairing, so sailing this tiny ship into uncharted waters.
> 
> Usual caveat that I own none of the LOK content.
> 
> This fic has no nutritional value. It is the fanfiction equivalent of eating marshmallow fluff straight from the jar with your finger. You have been warned.

“16oz white tea?”

The young man smiled a little, looking pleased. He had a nice smile, the kind that lit up his whole face. Korra thought it was funny something as silly as knowing his order would make him smile like that. As if he didn’t order the same thing every time he came in. She had no idea why he spent so much time studying in The Daily Grind instead of wherever he lived, but he came in three times a week like clockwork and had all semester. He was also just about the only one who ever ordered white tea. What the hell _was_ white tea, anyway? She should probably look that up in case anyone ever asked.

The man was one of her many regulars. Not exactly Korra’s type, but close enough she wouldn’t say no if she hadn’t been crushing on someone else. Thick black hair cut short on the sides, deep gold eyes, pale skin; good-looking in a rangy sort of way, if you were into that. Tall and lean, but built, as if he played sports or something. She’d never seen him outside the coffee shop though, so he didn’t play anything for U of R. Korra was a kinesiology major and knew all the jocks. He also seemed a little older. Not old old, like a professor or anything, but early 20s, maybe. Over the last year and a half Korra had gotten good at guessing people’s situations based only on their appearance, and she had Mr. White Tea pegged as grad school, living off campus. With that haircut and the way he kept in shape he was probably ROTC or even ex-army, and studying something boring that went with it. Her latest guess was civil engineering. 

They went through their usual routine. White Tea tapped his card, then dug in the pocket of his dark jeans for something to put in the little jar marked, “Voldemort Didn’t Tip.” He always tipped in cash, and tipped well. 

“Why do you do that?” Korra asked suddenly, before she could stop herself. White Tea looked up, his golden eyes a little wary.

“Did I do something?” he asked. 

“No, no. I mean, the cash.” She shrugged. “You pay with your card, hit ‘no tip,’ then tip in cash. Why? Nobody else does that.”

“Oh.” He actually looked a little embarrassed. “Interest rates.” Seeing her blank look, he continued. “If I tip you in cash, you get the money today. When I put it on the card, the credit card company gets it and gives it to you later, minus a fee. The time between now and when it goes in your paycheck, they’re collecting interest on that money in the bank. It’s only a few cents, but over a lifetime it adds up.” He considered her. “I think that’s bullshit, so I tip cash.”

It was the longest she’d ever heard him talk, to her or anyone else, even though he’d been coming into the shop for months. He always sat alone. “I had no idea,” she said. 

White Tea shrugged slightly. “Most people don’t. No one takes consumer finance law unless they have to.” Law student? That was interesting. It seemed she’d been right about the grad school but wrong about the focus. Not that law school wasn’t also boring.

The bell over the door jingled. White Tea pulled his hand out of his pocket, glanced in it quickly, and dropped the entire contents in the tip jar. “Thanks,” he said, then walked to the far corner of the shop and started unpacking his bag. 

The woman who’d come in behind him was another regular. She never worked in the shop though. She was strictly grab and go. Pretty much the opposite of Mr. White Tea, actually. She looked about Korra’s own age, which made her a sophomore or possibly a junior. High-strung business major type that looked good in everything and always seemed five minutes late for something terribly important. Korra had seen her at the gym sometimes, pounding on a punching bag like it had just tried to give her a B. She’d pinned her long black hair partially up today, revealing a pale, very pretty face with wide-set green eyes. Korra would not have said no to her, either, if her heart hadn’t been elsewhere at the moment. Stupid crushes.

The young woman’s eyes seemed to follow White Tea for a moment before turning her attention to the counter. Korra took the time to set his tea to steeping. 

“Hi,” the woman said quickly. “I’ll take an—”

 _Americano with an extra shot,_ Korra thought.

“8oz Americano with an extra shot, please,” she finished. Which was just a fancy way of saying jet fuel in a cup. The girl dug around in a handbag that looked like it had cost Korra’s whole paycheck, seemingly unable to find anything in particular. Judging by the jumbled state of what was inside, that wasn’t all that surprising. “Damn,” she whispered. She looked up at Korra. “I’m sorry, one minute.” 

“No problem,” Korra said. There was no one else in line at the moment. She got started on the espresso, then heard the timer beep for the tea. “White tea!” she called, and placed the cup on the counter. The young man hopped up from the corner, where he seemed to have barricaded himself in behind a laptop and a number of thick books. He usually stayed there a couple of hours, quietly absorbed in whatever it was that law students did alone in their corners.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” the Americano girl said, still digging furiously through her bag. She looked like she meant it, too. “I think I left my wallet… I have no idea.” She looked up, clearly embarrassed. “I hope I’m not wasting coffee, but I’ll have to come back another time.”

Korra opened her mouth, about to tell her not to worry about it. The girl was enough of a regular that it wouldn’t hurt to comp her one, especially since she’d probably try to pay it back later in the week. 

“I’ve got it,” said a quiet voice. Mr. White Tea stood just behind her, one hand wrapped around his cup, the other holding out his card. 

“Oh really, you don’t have to—” Americano’s cheeks flushed pink.

“Please,” he said. “I could never in good conscience leave someone without caffeine. Not when I could make a difference.” He gave Americano a slight nod, then pushed the card across the counter. Korra rang him up. To her surprise he used the screen to tip her this time. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Out of cash.” When she turned the tablet back she saw he’d tipped her 100% of the price of the coffee.

“Thank you,” Americano said, looking at White Tea like he’d just saved her puppy from a speeding car. “I’ve got my High Energy Physics mid-term in half an hour and I’m still half asleep.” Korra wondered if there was anyone who needed that class less than a woman routinely pounding triple espressos. She basically _was_ high energy physics. She was also the spitting image of a business major. Korra had no idea what she was doing in crazy advanced science instead. No science major dressed as well as Americano. It seemed like everyone was out to surprise her today.

White Tea smiled then, the little smile that transformed his face from something tired and tense into fairly handsome. “My pleasure,” he said softly, then walked back to his fortress of books. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Americano, extra shot,” Korra called. They were rarely busy enough that she actually needed names for the drinks. She put the coffee on the counter as the door jingled. Korra looked up to see White Tea. He was wearing a dark gray U of R sweatshirt over his jeans today and carrying what looked to be a rather heavy backpack. She met his eye and gave him a thumbs up. He smiled gratefully and walked to his usual corner to start setting up. He was so consistent she’d started prepping his order on sight. He’d pay when he picked it up, which saved him a trip from behind his mountain of books. 

Americano got her coffee from the pickup area, then walked over to the register. Korra wondered, not for the first time, if she owned any outfits that weren’t black. Black sweater and tight black slacks today. But somehow she made it look sophisticated rather than goth.  _ Advanced physics? Really? _

“Hey, I got his,” she said, hooking her thumb towards White Tea’s corner.

“What?”

“I said, I got it.” She handed Korra her card. “Whatever he ordered. I still owe him from when he spotted me the other day.”

“That’s very nice of you.” Korra was about to ring her up when the tea timer beeped. Out of the corner of her eye she saw White Tea make his way over. It was quiet in the shop and he must have heard it go off.

Korra handed it to him over the counter. “All set,” she said, nodding to Americano. 

“What?” He followed her nod and froze. 

“Thanks again,” Americano said. “I bet you thought I didn’t remember.”

White Tea’s cheeks went a little pink. “Oh… you didn’t have to…”

“You didn’t either,” Americano said briskly. “It was very nice of you. I aced the exam, and I figured I owe you. There aren’t a whole lot of gentlemen left in the world. And it’s just coffee, right?”

“Tea,” he said quickly.

Americano smiled. “Tea, then.”

***

White Tea looked up from his laptop as the door jingled. He’d been doing that a lot lately. He looked down again sharply as Americano walked in. She scanned the shop, her steps faltering just a tad when she spotted him. They missed each other’s eyes by a fraction of a second. 

Korra rolled her eyes. This was getting ridiculous. 

Americano had started studying in the coffee shop two weeks ago. Instead of her usual smash and grab, she added a biscotti to her order and started drinking it there. Unlike White Tea, she didn’t seem to have a typical time or seat, instead trying out different parts of the shop on different days depending on who else was around. Sometimes she’d run into a friend and chat, but more often she’d open a textbook or her sleek tablet and do homework while she slowly nibbled her treat. How long she stayed seemed to depend quite a bit on whether or not White Tea was sitting in his corner. 

He, for his part, was a lot more subtle. Korra thought that was partly the problem. You’d never know unless you’d been watching your regulars all semester. But Korra caught him stealing glances at Americano all the same. Where Americano stayed longer if he was around though, White Tea actually shortened his stays when she was there. After a while he’d shake his head, push the heels of his hands into his eyes before running his fingers through his hair, then glance her direction one last time before packing up and leaving. 

Americano walked quickly up to the counter and ordered. She paid, then looked around again, as if strategizing where to sit. It was a bit busier today and table space was limited. There were no seats anywhere near White Tea’s corner though.

At the same time, White Tea had gotten up, heading in the direction of the restrooms. Korra had a sudden thought. “Can I get a name for that coffee?” she asked Americano. 

“Sure. Asami.”

“Asami,” Korra said, rather more loudly than she needed to. She saw White Tea pause, just for a second, before he kept walking. 


	3. Chapter 3

The winter holiday came and went. The Daily Grind did brisk business during finals, but the gap in employment between semesters always made Korra eat a bit more ramen than she wanted. Her athletic scholarship only covered the time she was in school. She could have asked her parents for more, she supposed, but they already had doubts about the monetary value of a kinesiology major. Korra was grateful when classes resumed and the shop reopened.

Asami of the Americano was back the second week of classes. She glanced around the shop as soon as she entered, then walked slowly to the counter. White Tea wasn’t there today. Everyone had new classes and his schedule had changed. 

“Hi,” Asami said, her voice tired. “I’ll have—”

“An 8oz triple Americano?” Korra said brightly.

Asami smiled. “You remembered. Let’s leave off the extra shot today though. It’s a new semester and I’m trying to cut back.” 

Korra got started on the coffee. Asami wandered over to the bulletin board on the wall while she waited. It was relatively bare this early in the year, with only a few announcements for clubs and an upcoming music show. She walked back to the counter. There was no one else in line at the moment. “What are the rules for that thing?” Asami asked.

“The board? No rules, really. Don’t solicit sex or try to buy or sell anything illegal. Other than that, it’s pretty open.” Asami scrunched up her nose, as if thinking. “Looking for something in particular?” Korra asked.

Asami let out a sudden, frustrated breath. “What the hell is philosophy?”

Korra didn’t quite know what to say to that. She’d never taken it herself. She finished the coffee and handed it over. “A major for the nerdiest of nerds?” she said.

Asami laughed. “That, and the only 4C requirement I could get into this semester. It’s only week two and I’m completely lost. I’ve never felt so dumb before.” 

Korra shrugged. “Everyone is dumb at something. No shame in that.” For Korra it had been English. Who cared what all those dead white dudes thought about vanishing masculinity?

“Good point.” Asami glanced back at the bulletin board. “Got a pen?”

Korra pulled a pen from behind the counter. Asami flipped her receipt over, then wrote in a tiny scrawl:

ISO Tutor  
WTF Philosophy 201  
$$$ performance-based  
Contact Asami

  
She added a phone number. “Performance-based?” Korra asked.

“Yeah,” Asami passed back the pen. “I’m not paying some numbnut to teach me if I’m not getting results.” 

***

“Thanks,” said White Tea. He shifted the textbook he was holding under his arm so he could dig in his pocket for the tip.

“Legal Ethics?” Korra read. 

White Tea smiled. “Yeah. I finally get to take an elective.” 

“Wait. You’re taking that on purpose?” The book had to be three inches thick.

He laughed a little as he put the change in her tip jar. “I am. It’s fascinating. And important. If I have to study law, I can at least be one of the good guys, right?”

“Have to?”

“Oh.” His face got a kind of closed look about it. Korra wondered if she’d said too much. After all, they weren’t really friends. “Well, no, but it helps. My family is in politics and there are… well, nevermind. It’s fine.”

Korra looked around, hoping to find some way to change the subject. She didn’t want to leave him feeling uncomfortable or like she’d crossed a line. She liked it when her regulars opened up to her; it was one of the more, maybe only, interesting parts of working in a campus coffee shop. 

Korra’s gaze fell on the bulletin board. Asami wasn’t in the shop today. “So, legal ethics,” she said, nodding at the book. “Is that like philosophy?”

“Yes and no,” White Tea said. “A lot of it is based there, but the class itself only uses it as a starting point. I took a lot in undergrad though, so thankfully I have a very good grounding. Why?” He looked down as he shifted the big book a little. It seemed heavy.

“My friend Asami could use some help." White Tea's eyes snapped up at the name. So he _had_ been paying attention. Korra smiled and handed him his tea. "Maybe you’ve seen her in here?”


	4. Chapter 4

White Tea sat in his usual corner of the coffee shop. He wasn’t even pretending to work. He also hadn’t brought his laptop or usual pile of books. Korra thought he looked oddly naked without his walls. He seemed to think the same thing. She’d never seen someone look so awkward and uncomfortable simply sitting and doing nothing. His tea sat next to his right hand, virtually untouched. 

The door jingled and Asami walked in. Asami… and someone else. Not just anyone else, either.  _ That _ someone else. Tall and broad-shouldered, he was dressed in loose-fitting black warmups and a red Fire Ferrets hoodie. His dark hair was perfectly spiked despite his casual clothes. Korra had always wondered if he worked at it or simply woke up hot. 

“Hey,” Asami said, and waved. “The usual.” She turned to her companion. “Want anything?”

“Coffee,” said Mako. Then he looked at her, his gorgeous copper eyes widening a little in surprise. “Oh, hey, Korra. I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Since last year,” Korra said. She’d never seen Mako in The Daily Grind. “The scholarship only does so much.”

He laughed. “No kidding. I’ll be rooming with my brother ‘till I die.”

“Oh, you two know each other?” Asami asked. 

“Sure,” Mako said. “Korra is the girl version of me.”

Korra scowled. That wasn’t a terribly flattering description. “I think what he means to say is, I’m captain of the women’s team. Twice as good for half the funding.” Mako’s smile disappeared.  _ Good. _ “Anyway, what can I get you?”

“Just coffee,” Mako said. “None of this venti-choco-half-caf-whip stuff makes any sense to me.” Korra poured him a drip, then finished Asami’s cup of rocket fuel. She pushed both across the counter. 

Mako took his cup, then kissed Asami on the temple. “Gotta run,” he said. “See you later. Enjoy remedial philosophy lessons with your nerd.”

“Don’t be a dick,” laughed Asami. She paid for both of them as Mako headed out the door. “So,” she asked Korra, taking a sip of her coffee, “any idea who I’m meeting here?”

***

Korra pushed a fresh tea across the counter. “I don’t suppose you have any hemlock for that?” he asked. 

“Any what?”

White Tea smiled a little, but it was a sad smile. “Never mind.” 


	5. Chapter 5

“White tea.”

Korra raised her eyebrows. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Asami said. “I want to see what all the fuss is about.” 

Korra set the tea to steep. “So how’s philosophy lessons?”

“Actually really interesting. I doubt I’ll ever be great at it, but Iroh’s a really good teacher.”

“Iroh?” Of course. His name obviously wasn’t “white tea.” 

“Yeah. He’s super smart. Anyway, once I’d hit a few walls he started explaining things differently. He said that in a lot of ways philosophy is like math, and that my job is to structure the logic and point out the flaws in the equations. See where things do and don’t add up. Once he put it like that, it got a lot easier. Math, I can do. I wish our actual professor was more like him.”

“Oh good,” Korra said. The tea timer beeped. She slid the cup across the counter. “Take the bag out or it gets bitter.”

“Thanks,” Asami said. She took a sip and her eyes widened. “Wow, that’s really good. You mean I’ve been sleeping on this the whole time?”

_ That’s not the only good thing you’ve been sleeping on,  _ Korra thought, but it wasn’t her business. Especially if Asami was dating Mako now, it really wasn’t her business. Because who Mako dated was most decidedly  _ not _ Korra’s business.

“I don’t know how Iroh has time to tutor me though,” Asami said. “Second year law is no joke. And it’s not like he needs the money. He drove me home the other day when it was raining and  _ damn.  _ Have you seen it? It’s beautiful. But I know cars, and it’s pretty clear that he doesn’t. I’m telling you, it was almost painful to watch him shift. If he’s rocking a jag and drives it like a honda while still in school, it doesn’t seem like he’s strapped. What I pay him wouldn’t put gas in that thing.”

Those were a lot of words, for sure. Korra didn’t have a car, and knew even less about them. But she got the gist. White tea—Iroh—was loaded. And busy. And taking three hours out of his week to sit with Asami in the coffee shop to help her scrape middling grades in an introductory requirement class. And Asami had no idea why. 

Like Korra had said, everyone is dumb at something.

***

“My turn,” Iroh said. He handed Korra his card. 

“Are you sure?” Asami asked. 

“Yes. You got them last time.” At some point they’d realized it made more sense for them to trade off paying for drinks instead of each buying their own. Iroh tried to cheat and pay more often, but Korra never gave him up. If Asami couldn’t keep track and Iroh wanted to treat, that was his business. 

“Free cookie today,” Korra said as Iroh’s cash clinked in the tip jar. She’d changed the sign to read, “Tips Make You Hot.” 

“Cookie?” Asami asked. 

“Yeah. You get one with every two drinks. You know, because it’s Hallmark love day.” Korra plopped one of the big promotional cookies onto a plate. It was huge, about the size of her hand, and shaped like a heart. Someone had slathered it in neon pink frosting, then dusted it with red and white sprinkles. Valentine’s day really was the worst holiday ever. “Enjoy.”

Iroh shot her an incredulous look, then took the plate along with his tea. He walked it back to their table, Asami following close behind, both hands wrapped around her coffee. Iroh sat, then carefully divided the cookie. He moved his half to a napkin and gave Asami the plate.  _ So much for love day, _ Korra thought. It looked like he was trying to erect the Berlin wall between their cookie halves. 

Korra helped the next customer, a bleary-eyed freshman who asked for something with so much sugar it made her brain hurt just hearing his order. As he paid, Korra glanced up to see Asami reach across the table and brush a cookie crumb off Iroh’s cheek. So much for the Berlin wall.


	6. Chapter 6

Korra was surprised to see Iroh at the counter. This wasn’t his usual time. He quickly held up a hand. “No tea today,” he said. “Can I get Asami’s order? Toxic sludge with a side of cookie?” 

Korra grinned at that. It was a pretty accurate description. “Sure thing. What for?”

“Oh.” He colored a little. “She pulled a muscle in her back during kickboxing. We canceled our session today, but my 10:30 class is just across the street from her dorm. I thought it might be nice to drop this off on the way. A bad back doesn’t mean you don’t need coffee.”

 _Isn’t that something Mako should be doing?_ she almost asked, but didn’t. “How is tutoring going, anyway?”

Iroh smiled his shy, whole-face smile. “It’s been really fun. I’ve never taught anyone before. At first I wasn’t sure I could help, but Asami is unbelievably smart. It turned out it was mostly about framing.” He grinned. “I think she just doesn’t like being told what to think. I made it about her pointing out where other people are wrong, and she took to it no problem.”

“It sounds like she hardly needs a tutor now,” Korra said. 

Iroh looked down. “I told her that, too,” he said quietly.

“And?”

“We agreed to go through midterms. After that, I don’t think she’ll need me.”

“What are you going to do with your extra time then? You’ve been spending a lot of time together.” It was true enough. Korra had seen them half a dozen times around campus with one another, just walking or talking or grabbing lunch. They’d even gone to a play together, though from what Asami had said, _Waiting for Godot_ was actually about philosophy. 

“Swim, probably,” Iroh said. Korra blinked. It wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting. He must have seen her expression. “I’ve been slacking a bit. Navy. If I don’t pass my fitness tests I’ll be in trouble.” Ah. So she’d been right about the military thing, too. Plus two for Korra.

“More preparation for politics?” she asked. 

Iroh sighed. “Yes. It’s not that bad though.”

“Have you ever done anything just for you?”

He studied her for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you work your ass off in a top law program that you said you care less about, and in your free time you jump in a frozen lake and do pushups and whatever else, all so that you can have a career in what your family says you should. And all you can say about it is ‘it’s not that bad’? What’s in it for you, Iroh? Isn’t there anything that you want just for you? You can’t live your whole life for someone else.”

Iroh pressed his lips together into a thin line. “Watch me,” he said. He walked to the other side of the shop. As soon as Asami’s order was ready, he left without another word. 

***

“Anthropology,” said a quiet voice.

“What?” Korra hadn’t been aware there was anyone in line. She’d been reading her homework under the counter and must not have been paying attention.

“Anthropology,” Iroh said. He was standing at the counter again, both hands shoved in the pockets of a dark red parka. The shop was nearly empty. “That’s the thing I did for me.”

“When was that?” Korra asked.

“Undergrad minor. I was told I could minor in whatever I wanted as long as I kept up my grades in economics and aced the ROTC requirements. I took every class I could. It was incredibly interesting. I’ve had the privilege to travel a bit, and people everywhere are so different, and yet not. I’ve always been fascinated by that. I wish I could have done more, but I’m grateful for the time I had.”

“Did you ever tell your family that?”

Iroh sighed. “It wouldn’t matter. Why tell someone something if you can’t change the outcome? It will just hurt both of you.” He looked down at the counter and bit his lower lip slightly. 

“I don’t know.” She wasn’t sure they were talking about majors anymore. “Maybe because, if you don’t, they’ll never know what you want. You’re not even giving them a chance to say yes.” Not that she’d ever taken her own advice.

Iroh pressed his hands into the counter, then huffed out a breath. “Thanks anyway, Korra.”


	7. Chapter 7

Korra looked up at the clock. It had only been three hours, but it felt like a lifetime. Usually she had some downtime between class changes, but today had been non-stop since her shift started. In fact, spring semester midterms were so busy they’d had to bring in extra help. Mako’s little brother, of all people, had gotten the gig. Korra had met him a few times hanging out on the sidelines of practices, and she liked him as a person, but it was clear Bolin had never made coffee before. She wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten the job. Then again, everyone had to start somewhere. 

Korra had put him on the customer end, both taking and calling out orders. Bolin was cute, and friendly, and could follow directions, so he’d probably be all right. Korra herself focused on making the drinks, vowing to show Bolin the ropes once things slowed down a little. 

“And can I get a name for those?” she heard Bolin ask. 

“Asami.” Korra looked up from the espresso machine. Asami stood next to the register, her pale face just peeking out beneath her fur-lined hood. It had been unusually cold this week, and no one seemed in a hurry to take off their coats before their coffee arrived. As Korra watched, Asami looked behind her at the far corner of the shop. Sure enough, Iroh was already there at their table, still bundled in his deep red parka. He seemed absorbed in the thick book open in front of him. Korra looked back at the register. Asami was staring at him with a look of such naked longing it was almost painful to watch. Like the world was a desert and Iroh was the last sip of water on Earth. Spirits, what was wrong with these two?

“$7.13,” Bolin said. Immediately Asami’s expression changed. She slapped on a smile and turned back to Bolin, digging her card out of her bag.

_ Okay, _ Korra thought.  _ Enough is enough. _ It was time to fix this. Bolin passed her the two cups that made up their order. Sure enough, one white tea and one triple Americano. Korra picked up the marker and scribbled on the side of the cup, then set about making the drinks. 

***

“Asami, Iroh is in love with you, you idiot?” called Bolin. He frowned at the cup, shrugged, then put it on the counter. 

Everything got quiet. 

Korra looked over to where Iroh and Asami sat. He’d gone completely scarlet, his face nearly the same color as his parka, and looked like he wanted to die. Across from him, Asami sat frozen, her back to the counter. Korra couldn’t see her face. Suddenly Iroh stood. He grabbed his bag with one hand and stormed out of the coffee shop. The door banged shut with a jingle.

“Was I not supposed to read that?” Bolin asked.


	8. Chapter 8

The bell tinkled as Asami walked into the coffee shop. She scanned the other patrons, then sagged a little. She walked slowly up to the counter.

“Triple?” Korra asked.

“Better make it four,” Asami said. “Unless you’ve started selling booze.” 

“No booze,” Korra said. “And anyway it’s 9:30.”

“He’s stopped coming, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah.” She hadn’t seen Iroh since she’d spilled his secret a week ago.

“And you don’t have…?” she left the rest of the question unsaid.

“I’m sorry, Asami. I didn’t even know his name until you told me. Don’t you have his number?”

“I do. He hasn’t answered. Law school emails are in a different directory, so I can’t look him up. I suppose I could find someone else there and ask them, but then it starts to get too stalkery. He knows I want to talk to him. What else can I do? And I feel like some things are better said in person.” Asami swiped her card, then hit “no tip.” She opened her wallet and pulled out some bills, then shoved them into the tip jar. Iroh must have told her about the interest thing.

Korra moved to hand Asami her coffee, then hesitated. “What do you want to tell him?”

Asami looked down. “That I miss him. That I miss his stupid philosophy and his stupid face. That I got the hang of the class weeks ago, but kept paying him because I liked hanging out.” 

“And Mako?” Korra said quietly. 

Asami’s face fell. “It was so stupid! We’re friends, that’s all. I spent weeks trying to get Iroh to notice me, ever since he bought me that coffee, but he never did. And Mako, he’s my chem lab partner, and he said he had the same problem. So we agreed to go out for a bit to make them jealous. That’s the only reason I kept bringing him by here. Only it didn’t work!”

Korra blinked at her, stunned. “Why didn’t you just ask him out?”

Asami didn’t say anything. Korra realized that might be a fairly personal question. She started to apologize when Asami said, “I’ve been left a lot. I… I wanted it to come from him, I guess. When I heard what Mako’s brother said, I thought he was finally going to say something. Instead he just got angry and left.” She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. “Korra, why do they always leave?”

She felt a twinge of guilt at that. It was her fault Iroh had gotten angry. In the movies, declarations of love over the loudspeaker always sent the two leads tumbling into each other's arms. But Korra should have known better. Iroh and Asami were regulars. Iroh had spent the better part of the fall semester hiding in the corner, and was obviously reserved if not downright shy. Asami’s carefully composed and successful exterior hid an insecure nerd with some serious baggage. Looking back, calling Iroh out in public, and surprising Asami, had been the worst possible idea Korra could have had. 

_You idiot,_ she thought. _You have to fix this._

Korra glanced around The Daily Grind. It was between classes, and it was fairly quiet. “Can I have his number?” she asked.

Asami cast her a worried look. “What are you going to do?”

“Nothing, I promise. But I think I can get him to come to the coffee shop.” 


	9. Chapter 9

“It really shouldn’t be possible,” Iroh said. He seemed tired and frazzled, his short black hair sticking up in all directions. “Nothing is printed on the slips. And if the numbers were stolen electronically, they’d… they’d…” Iroh trailed off as Asami walked out from behind the counter. “Oh.”

“Hi,” she said. 

Iroh looked at Korra. “No credit card fraud?” She shook her head. He sighed and balled his fists. “Right.”

“I’m sorry,” Asami said quickly. “I put her up to it. But you didn’t answer my texts.” Korra stepped behind the counter, trying to make them feel like they were alone. She’d flipped the sign outside The Daily Grind to “Back Soon” when she’d met Iroh at the door.

“It’s after midterms,” Iroh replied. “You said we were done.”

“I don’t—” Asami cut herself off. “All right. Fine.”

Iroh nodded once, then walked to the door.

“A minus,” she called after him. He stopped, his back still to her. “On the midterm. I just thought you should know.”

A long pause. “Congratulations.” He put his hand on the knob.

 _“Modus tollens,”_ Asami said quickly. 

“What?”

“ _Modus tollens._ If a guy spends two months tutoring a girl he doesn’t like, he needs the money. You don’t need the money. You don’t have the time, either. What does that mean?" Korra heard her voice crack a little. "Tell me, Iroh. What follows?”

“The antecedent is not the case,” Iroh said. His voice was so quiet Korra could barely hear him. He took his hand off the door. 

“And if a girl spends a couple hundred dollars on a tutor she doesn’t need," Asami continued, "she has other reasons.” She took a careful step towards him. "I've got a B+."

“You were terrible at philosophy.” Iroh turned around.

“That was two months ago." Asami took another step. "I'm not now. I had a really good tutor. A tutor I kept seeing weeks after I pulled up my grade.”

 _"Modus ponens,"_ Iroh said. His whole body looked tense. “So what follows?”

“You know,” Asami breathed. “Iroh, why are you asking if you know?"

"And your boyfriend?"

"Causal inference. Just because I had a boyfriend before doesn't mean I do now. Which you might know if you'd ever bothered to ask me."

"So what should I infer?" Iroh was staring at her now, his face slowly filling with an expression that could only be described as hope.

"I don't know," Asami said. She looked down. "That I like it. I like _you._ It's always been you. And I don’t want to stop seeing you. The crazy thing is, I don’t think you do, either, even if what was on the cup wasn't true. I’m sorry I couldn’t just say it, but—”

Iroh crossed the space between them in two big steps and pulled her into a kiss. Asami froze in surprise, then threw her arms around his neck. Without missing a beat, Iroh picked her up and spun her, their faces still pressed firmly together. When her feet touched the ground again they broke apart, laughing. Then he leaned down and kissed her again, more slowly this time; the kind of intense, time-stopping kiss that Korra hadn't thought existed outside of the movies. Asami melted into him, and for a moment the open floor of The Daily Grind might have been the only place in the universe.

Korra put two fingers in her mouth and whistled.


	10. Chapter 10

“White tea, and Americano with an extra shot!” Korra called. Iroh jumped up from his typical corner and trotted over to the counter. 

“Thanks, Korra,” he said with a smile. He smiled a lot these days. He grabbed the cups and hurried back, then scooted in next to Asami. She gave him a kiss and took her coffee. He wrapped an arm around her back, then put his tea down to open a fat book. Korra just caught the title.  _ A History of Anthropological Theory.  _ Good for him. It still sounded boring. 

There were no more customers in line, so she took the brief break to wipe down the espresso machine. Bolin had started working regularly most mornings to help with the rush, but he wasn’t the best at cleaning the equipment yet. 

The door chime jingled and Korra looked up. To her surprise, Mako walked in. She hadn’t spoken to him since he and Asami had stopped their fake dating. He looked as good as ever though. He probably  _ did _ wake up like that. Not that Korra would ever find out. Asami hadn’t said anything, but presumably he’d also gotten together with whomever he’d been trying to make jealous. She couldn’t imagine Mako having to try terribly hard.

Off in the corner, Korra heard a giggle. She looked over to see Iroh eating the end of Asami’s biscotti as she pretended to swat at him. It didn’t seem like they were doing much studying. Hopefully Mako was good at chemistry lab.

He looked around, then walked up to the counter. “Hi.”

“Hey, Mako,” Korra said. “What can I get you?” 

“Um. Coffee.” Korra punched the tablet and turned to get him a drip. “And, um. When do you get off?”


End file.
